rage.”
“I hear you. What’s this one, Weeze?”
“What does it look like to you?”
“It looks like …” Snooky paused. “Like a fish having sex with an antelope.”
“Thank you. Thank you very much. It’s called ‘Harmony III.’ ”
“How about this one? This looks like a fish having sex with a bear.”
“Interesting.” Weezy chewed her lower lip and studied the painting. “Interesting. Yes, possibly.”
“And this one over here is Queen Catherine of Russia having sex with a horse?”
“Fascinating. Fascinating. Sad, of course, but fascinating. Have you ever done any Rorschach work?”
“Not really.”
“I don’t want to disappoint you, Snooks, but none of these paintings have anything to do with sex.”
“Hard to believe.”
“I mean, you can interpret them any way you want, particularly if you pay me large sums of money, but sex was not on my mind while I was creating them.”
“I see.”
“Sex is always on Snooky’s mind,” said Maya. “He thinks of nothing else.”
“That’s not true. Occasionally I also think about wine.”
“Wine, women and song,” said Weezy. “That’s what a boy your age should be thinking about. You’re right on schedule, Snooky.”
“Weezy understands me. She understands me in a way you never have, Missy. Why couldn’t she have been my sister instead?”
“A tragic accident of fate,” said Maya. “Weezy, I love these new paintings. They’re gorgeous. A whole different side of you, much softer and happier. You must be feeling better,and I’m glad to see it. Now please excuse me. I have to go outside and throw up.”
Bernard was sitting in his lounge chair, his head bent back at an awkward angle, mouth open, snoring happily, when the phone rang. Weezy had rigged up the phone line so that it rang loudly in the greenhouse, next to the deck, and nowhere else in the house. This allowed her to work undisturbed in the studio. “Nothing worse than hearing the phone while you’re working,” she had told Bernard once. “Even if you don’t answer it, you have to wonder who it was.”
Bernard himself dealt with this problem by never answering his phone at all, at any time of day, whether he was working or not. He had never once wondered who it was. However, after the fourth ring he reluctantly opened his eyes and heaved himself out of his chair. Some vestigial impulse told him that Maya would want him to answer Weezy’s phone.
He went through the greenhouse into the living room and picked up the receiver. “Hello?”
There was silence on the other end: a living, breathing silence. It was not the sound of a disconnected line. Bernard had the distinct feeling that someone was there.
He did not say “hello” again. Neither did he hang up. Instead, he stood with the phone to his ear and waited.
The person on the other end was silent. Bernard smiled grimly. Maya had told him about the strange goings-on with Weezy’s phone. He figured that this time the caller was in for a little surprise. Unlike most other people, Bernard loved silence. He could wait for hours like this if necessary.
Finally, after several long minutes had crawled past, he could hear a faint hiss on the other end. It did not even sound human. It sounded alien and malevolent. Bernard felt a slight chill. There was a gentle
click
as the caller hung up.
Bernard put the receiver down. He stood for a moment, thinking. Then he picked it up and rapidly dialed *69.
There was a pause and a click. A recorded female voice came on.
“
This service cannot be activated because the telephone number is not in our service area
.”
Bernard slowly put the receiver down. He was standing there, his mind far away, when Maya and the others came into the room.
“Sweetheart,” said Maya. “I got queasy all of a sudden. It’s not a comment on Weezy’s paintings, they’re marvelous. What’s the matter?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re staring at the phone as if you’ve never
“I hear you. What’s this one, Weeze?”
“What does it look like to you?”
“It looks like …” Snooky paused. “Like a fish having sex with an antelope.”
“Thank you. Thank you very much. It’s called ‘Harmony III.’ ”
“How about this one? This looks like a fish having sex with a bear.”
“Interesting.” Weezy chewed her lower lip and studied the painting. “Interesting. Yes, possibly.”
“And this one over here is Queen Catherine of Russia having sex with a horse?”
“Fascinating. Fascinating. Sad, of course, but fascinating. Have you ever done any Rorschach work?”
“Not really.”
“I don’t want to disappoint you, Snooks, but none of these paintings have anything to do with sex.”
“Hard to believe.”
“I mean, you can interpret them any way you want, particularly if you pay me large sums of money, but sex was not on my mind while I was creating them.”
“I see.”
“Sex is always on Snooky’s mind,” said Maya. “He thinks of nothing else.”
“That’s not true. Occasionally I also think about wine.”
“Wine, women and song,” said Weezy. “That’s what a boy your age should be thinking about. You’re right on schedule, Snooky.”
“Weezy understands me. She understands me in a way you never have, Missy. Why couldn’t she have been my sister instead?”
“A tragic accident of fate,” said Maya. “Weezy, I love these new paintings. They’re gorgeous. A whole different side of you, much softer and happier. You must be feeling better,and I’m glad to see it. Now please excuse me. I have to go outside and throw up.”
Bernard was sitting in his lounge chair, his head bent back at an awkward angle, mouth open, snoring happily, when the phone rang. Weezy had rigged up the phone line so that it rang loudly in the greenhouse, next to the deck, and nowhere else in the house. This allowed her to work undisturbed in the studio. “Nothing worse than hearing the phone while you’re working,” she had told Bernard once. “Even if you don’t answer it, you have to wonder who it was.”
Bernard himself dealt with this problem by never answering his phone at all, at any time of day, whether he was working or not. He had never once wondered who it was. However, after the fourth ring he reluctantly opened his eyes and heaved himself out of his chair. Some vestigial impulse told him that Maya would want him to answer Weezy’s phone.
He went through the greenhouse into the living room and picked up the receiver. “Hello?”
There was silence on the other end: a living, breathing silence. It was not the sound of a disconnected line. Bernard had the distinct feeling that someone was there.
He did not say “hello” again. Neither did he hang up. Instead, he stood with the phone to his ear and waited.
The person on the other end was silent. Bernard smiled grimly. Maya had told him about the strange goings-on with Weezy’s phone. He figured that this time the caller was in for a little surprise. Unlike most other people, Bernard loved silence. He could wait for hours like this if necessary.
Finally, after several long minutes had crawled past, he could hear a faint hiss on the other end. It did not even sound human. It sounded alien and malevolent. Bernard felt a slight chill. There was a gentle
click
as the caller hung up.
Bernard put the receiver down. He stood for a moment, thinking. Then he picked it up and rapidly dialed *69.
There was a pause and a click. A recorded female voice came on.
“
This service cannot be activated because the telephone number is not in our service area
.”
Bernard slowly put the receiver down. He was standing there, his mind far away, when Maya and the others came into the room.
“Sweetheart,” said Maya. “I got queasy all of a sudden. It’s not a comment on Weezy’s paintings, they’re marvelous. What’s the matter?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re staring at the phone as if you’ve never
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